


Seen But Never Heard

by bucketofbarnes



Series: The Long Dark [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Geralt Whump, Isolation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 05:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15857592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucketofbarnes/pseuds/bucketofbarnes
Summary: Letho had never been particularly good at comforting others, in fact he was positively useless at it. Give him a problem that he could fight, and he was your man. But this wasn’t something that could be solved with brute force. He didn’t know what to do with this.





	Seen But Never Heard

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Eredin kidnaps Yennefer and Geralt goes to rescue her. Inspired by TW2 flashbacks, this is just after Geralt saves Letho and begins travelling with him, Auckes and Serrit. Geralt has been on his own for far too long with only monsters for company and it shows.
> 
> This was done for BadThingsHappenBingo for the prompt Isolation.

Letho pulled the last branch into place over the mouth of the cave and stood back to inspect his work. The branches wove together in a complicated mess. It was in no way pretty, but it would do the job of covering the cave and keeping out the increasingly heavy snowfall. With that job finished, he turned to gaze at the other occupants of the tiny cave.

A small fire had been lit in the centre, the bright orange of the flames sending strange shadows flickering across the stone walls. Auckes and Serrit were sat side by side next to the fire, inseparable as always, speaking quietly to each other. Letho frowned in confusion when he failed to see the last individual in their little team. He could have sworn that he had seen him slip into the cave behind him.

A tiny glint of yellow in the shadows gave him away. Letho focused, gazing deep into the shadows, and there he was.

Geralt was sat on the floor of the cave, back to the rough wall, legs splayed out in front of him. The pose looked relaxed but Letho knew better. The Wolf’s limbs were tense, ready to move, and his hand strayed too close to the handle of one of his blades laying on the ground beside him.

The two stared at each other for a moment, and Letho tried to look as unthreatening as possible. He held his hands loosely at his side, clearly away from his weapons. After a moment, Geralt seemed to relax slightly, slumping against the wall. His fingers still touched the handle of his blade, but he didn’t seem as eager to use it as he had been.

With the stare off over, Letho moved to sit by the fire, leaning back on his hands with a sigh. He closed his eyes at the warmth the flames gave off, enjoying the feeling of them banishing the cold that had sunk into his bones as they had trekked through the blizzard to find shelter.

It had only been a few days since he had run into the other Witcher, since Geralt had saved his life from the Slyzard. He had to admit, the last thing he had expected to see out here was another Witcher, especially one from the School of the Wolf.

Geralt had looked like hell when he had first seen him, body so stiff it was almost trembling, hair dull and dishevelled, dark circles beneath wild eyes. He had spoken little when Letho had thanked and then questioned him. His fellow Witcher had kept his answers short, voice broken and hoarse in a way that showed he hadn’t used it in a while. He had been quiet since, only offering a nod to Auckes and Serrit when they had eventually met up. They had attempted to get him to talk several times on the path, but each attempt was met with only a wary silence.

There was something almost eerie about the Wolf. Something about him was setting his instincts on edge. He didn’t know whether it was the strange way he moved, like he was waiting for a fight, his twitching hands or his nervous gaze. Perhaps it was the way he watched the three Vipers like they were a threat, ready to be eliminated at the slightest sign of trouble. Whatever it was, it gave Letho the same feeling he got before a contract. That he was facing a beast that was a minute away from attacking.

Letho didn’t know exactly what was wrong with him, but he had his suspicions. It would hardly be the first time that he had come across someone who had spent a little too much time alone and had suffered because of it. And it was clear to see that Geralt had been out here for a long time. If he had spent all that time on his own? With only monsters for company? Well it was no wonder that he was acting a little strange. Letho enjoyed time on his own, but going weeks, even months without seeing a single person? He couldn’t begin to imagine how he would feel in that situation.

Letho had never been particularly good at comforting others, in fact he was positively useless at it. Give him a problem that he could fight, and he was your man. But this wasn’t something that could be solved with brute force. He didn’t know what to do with this.

From the small snippets he had managed to get out of Geralt, he knew that the Wolf was out here looking for someone. A woman, taken by the Wild Hunt.

Part of him had wanted to laugh when he had heard that. The spectral riders? Creatures that appeared in the books used to frighten children, to teach them to be good and eat their vegetables or the Hunt would come and get them. But there was no denying them after he had seen the look in Geralt’s eyes. That look of desperation, of a man bent on following this quest through to the end no matter what. No man would follow a mere fairy tale with that amount of determination.

Letho would admit, he had thought of just thanking Geralt for saving him and leaving him to it. This entire situation felt dangerous. This would be extra trouble for him. He should just go on to the next contract and forget about all of this.

But Geralt had saved his life.

All the time he had spent on the path, very _very_ few people would have ever even dreamed of risking their lives for him. When the Slyzard had had him pinned, he had been certain that this was it. It was finally time for him to die as a Witcher should, in a spray of blood and cry of pain, left in a ditch for the necrophages to devour or passing villagers to spit on. But then Geralt had come out of nowhere, cutting down the monster, saving his life. And he had demanded nothing for it.

He owed him.

When Auckes and Serrit had shown up, he had attempted to get them to leave, to go on with their lives instead of getting tangled in this mess with him. But out of stubbornness or a frustrating sense of loyalty, the two had refused to leave him. He was half tempted to bang their heads together to knock some sense into them, but even he couldn’t ignore the warm feeling that crept up on him when they had refused to leave.

He had no idea what would come of all this. He didn’t know if they would find the riders or if this was all some useless quest being followed by a man that was clearly not fully stable right now.

But as he lay down next to the fire ready to sleep, listening to Geralt muttering to himself softly in the background, he decided that helping him find this woman was the very least that he could do.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "I'll Keep Coming" by Low Roar.
> 
> You can see more content, or make requests at my tumblr: bucketofbarnes.tumblr.com/


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